


To tell you the truth, I'm relieved

by Petra



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Afterlife, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:30:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: When you die, you have to walk a desert. Obi-Wan and Anakin are dead, and they've been to deserts before.





	To tell you the truth, I'm relieved

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Jamjar for beta-reading.

It's not the first time he's closed his eyes expecting oblivion and opened them again somewhere else, but this somewhere else isn't a ship on fire or a medbay staffed by half-incapacitated droids. It's a starlit desert, with cool sand underfoot--and under his head, because he's lying in it--and two robed figures standing over him, one faint and blue, one in black.

NO, the one in black says. THAT IS NOT HOW THIS WORKS, with a finality that rings through every part of his body. None of which hurt anymore. 

Ah.

"Yes, I know your rules," says the other, in precise, insistent tones he knows better than he knows his own name at the moment. There's the name he rejected a lifetime ago and the name he rejected an instant ago. "And yet, here I am--ah, you're awake."

He was hoping Obi-Wan would name him so he doesn't have to do it himself. "Yes." He gets to his feet. His own feet, not prosthetics that hurt.

"We'll be going, then," Obi-Wan says briskly.

The other figure draws his sword to bar them from leaving. It is silent, but glows as blue as any lightsaber. YOU MUST WALK A DESERT, it says.

"I have," Obi-Wan says. He is the same color as the sword, as his lightsaber. His eyes look like nebulae. Exhausted nebulae, but still. 

"So have I," he says. He doesn't say that it's been cycles since he spent time in a literal desert; the figure in the black robe is no master of his. He's been walking a long time and he just got somewhere.

Sand blows against his face.

His face. He's not wearing the damned mask. His son touched his face, and now he's in a desert, and he's not there alone.

He doesn't cry, not where the stranger can see him.

YOU HAVE ENEMIES, the stranger says.

He catches Obi-Wan's nebula eye and they laugh, and then he knows his name, because Anakin hasn't laughed in two decades, not aloud, not with his whole body and his whole heart, until he's bending over and gasping for breath, until Obi-Wan is leaning on his shoulder and wiping tears from his eyes. When he finally catches his breath, he says, "What else is new?"

THEY ARE WAITING.

"Yeah." Anakin shrugs. "They've been waiting. They can keep waiting. Where are we supposed to walk to, anyway?"

THE END OF THE DESERT, says the figure.

"It has an end?" Anakin asks. The planets where deserts have edges seem like dreams.

YES.

"Everything has an end," Obi-Wan says firmly. "And you don't have to walk all the way through it to get there."

The impossibly silent sword swings down between them. EVERYONE WALKS HIS OWN DESERT.

"Of course," Obi-Wan says smoothly. "Show me where it's written that he has to do it alone. Or all at once. Or without any advice from someone who owes him advice."

"You don't owe me anything," Anakin says.

Obi-Wan sighs and it sounds like an oncoming sandstorm. He puts his hand to his belt and unclips a lightsaber--one of Anakin's. Not his last one, the one Luke had on Bespin, but one he lost in the Clone Wars, setting a terrible example for Ahsoka. "This weapon is your afterlife," he says, with a quirk of a smile. "Treat it well."

"Thanks," Anakin says. There's a bit of a burr on the grip. He'll have to buff it later.

There is a blue flash from inside the dark figure's hood that feels sardonic. DIDN'T HE KILL YOU?

"Sorry about that," Anakin says.

Obi-Wan waves away the apology. "I let you."

"Yeah." Anakin's been wondering about that for cycles. They'll argue about the minutiae of the past--and there's a lot of it to argue about--later.

"Well?" Obi-Wan says.

The dark figure shrugs. YOU'VE MADE YOUR CHOICE.

It disappears like the end of a holo call.

The desert feels easier, like when the Emperor's attention goes elsewhere. "Which way is the closest edge?" Anakin asks.

"Through the Force," Obi-Wan says. He's smiling like he just saved a star system from Separatists, tight and smug.

Anakin waits for him to explain for a second before he remembers that never works. "Okay, who was that?"

"Death," Obi-Wan says.

"Weird name."

"No, it's a perfectly sensible name for him. But at the moment, what you need to do is concentrate your energy on the forest moon of Endor. We have a visit to make."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] To tell you the truth, I'm relieved](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17199290) by [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins)




End file.
